


The Blood on my Hands

by waitforyourcall



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa 3: The End of 希望ヶ峰学園 | The End of Kibougamine Gakuen | End of Hope's Peak High School
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Despair (Dangan Ronpa), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Self-Worth Issues, but he has reason, nagito is a bitch, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-14 16:40:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29174313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waitforyourcall/pseuds/waitforyourcall
Summary: Nagito thinks about despair & Chiaki.
Relationships: Hinata Hajime/Komaeda Nagito
Comments: 2
Kudos: 29





	The Blood on my Hands

“Why do you have to make everything a battle?”

Nagito was still unable to make any sort of eye contact with him, and chose to stare at the ground instead. This had started about 30 minutes prior, directly after he had woken up from yet another night terror. 

“Why can’t you just give up?” He bit back. The other boy gave him a look. He hated that look. It was too worried, too caring, and harbored far too much emotion to be spent on someone like him. _You upset him. Wrap this up already._ “It won’t do you any good to stay up any longer. I’m absolutely fine, no need to worry.” A lie, but a necessary one.

“I’m just trying to help you,” Hajime said, “there’s no reason to get so defensive, and there’s no need to lie to me.” Of course he had seen right through him, it didn’t take a genius to deduce that “I’m okay”s coming from trembling, tear-soaked lips were nothing to be taken at face-value. 

Talking about it wasn’t the issue. He would love to be able to just communicate with the other, rather than causing an argument. However, he couldn’t shake that internal monologue screaming at him that _you don't deserve that much_ , _you’re just going to make him despise you if you become a burden, there’s no need to keep him awake over childish things like nightmares._ It seemed, however, that there was no possible way to prevent the second one- this very argument was case and point.

“Why?” he asked. _Why do you care so much_.

“What?”

“Why are you doing it? What possible gain can you be getting from this?” Nagito finally looked up at Hajime. This had gotten to the point where he needed him to lay off before he ended up folding. “Is it guilt, pity, or do you just get off on being the savior?” He didn’t mean that last part, but sometimes it was better to walk away the bad guy than stay as a burden. 

That must’ve struck something inside of Hajime, because he just silently got up and left the room. _This is it. He’s finally realized you’re not worth the trouble._ Bittersweet, but he’d suffer loneliness if it meant Hajime could move on and be happier with someone who could at the very _least_ do so much as talk to him honestly. 

Just as he decided to try and lay back down (not that he’d be able to go back to sleep), Hajime walked back in. He walked over to the bed and handed a glass of water to Nagito, who looked at him quizzically, “You’re back?”

The brunet just shook his head, “Take a minute, then talk to me without trying to bite my head off.”

They sat in silence for the next few minutes. Nagito looked down at his hand- the real one- that was now wet with condensation from the glass. It was cold, and brought him back to reality. He didn’t necessarily feel guilty, moreso confused and upset. Not only had he spent a good chunk of the night battling him trying to get him to leave him alone and let him deal with his problems himself, he’d directly insulted Hajime’s character. Whether he meant it or not didn’t matter. Despite this, he was right there sitting next to him, still waiting for him to talk. Nothing Nagito had done had made him deserving of this kindness.

He was too tired to fight- especially with someone who wasn’t doing anything worth fighting against. “I’m sorry,” finally _some_ honesty, “I know you don’t have bad intentions. I shouldn’t have been so aggressive.” 

Hajime gave him that look again. “You don’t have to tell me what’s wrong,” he started, “but don’t just internalize and refuse to talk about it.” This patience had to be bound to run out soon. “I’m not going to hurt you, Nagito.”

_Oh, but it’d be so much simpler if you would. Just hit me then leave. Let your patience run out already._

But it hadn’t yet. He was still running off of pure luck that made it so he hadn’t been tossed aside yet. _Luck that’s sure to deplete if you keep causing problems at every turn._

He let out a sigh, then adjusted himself so that he was facing the other. At this point, he had stopped crying, though his breathing was still a bit erratic, so he could at least talk a bit more calmly. “Every night. I can’t shake the thoughts and memories of everything. Of everything that happened before Hope’s Peak, the simulation, and everything _she_ did. Hell, everything _I_ did under her reign.” 

How unlucky it was that he had had that nightmare and woken Hajime up just to deal with this, “Mostly though, how I could’ve stopped it, and ended up just getting Chiaki killed. Whether I’m awake or asleep doesn’t change whether I feel that guilt, it’s just impossible to hide it when I’m asleep. Sorry.”

The crying had started back up again now that he’d said her name, silent tears now, and Hajime reached over to grab his hand. “Don’t apologize for things that are out of your control,” he said, voice slightly wavering. Nagito just gripped his hand tighter in response. “Can you tell me what exactly it was tonight?”

Nagito was silent for a bit before responding, “I saw the maze again. Saw her die again.” He choked out the next part behind pained chuckles, “I practically killed her twice, you know? I failed to stop it the first, and it was completely my doing the second. I wasn’t convincing enough when trying to get her not to go back down that passage and my death plan was just far too fickle to save her.”

The other visibly tensed at the mention of Nagito’s plan, but it was mentioning her that obviously upset Hajime the most, because now he looked even more sad than before. _Way to go, asshole. You mentioned the dead girlfriend._ “Don’t say that. You can’t blame yourself for the things Enoshima did.” He spat that name out like fire on his tongue.

“But what makes me any better than her? There’s blood on my hands, too. You’d despise my very existence if you heard half the gruesome details of what I’ve done,” Nagito refuted.

Hajime looked at him with a firm stare. “You can’t talk like that. You know damn well that you wouldn’t have done that on your own. That wasn’t you, it was the war machine that she twisted you to be.” He seemed sure of it. “You can’t take fault for that.”

Still, even if Hajime told him the truth, Nagito couldn’t listen. Unfortunately, he was born to be absolutely impossible. “But I _enjoyed_ it. At the time, at least. It’s beyond any sort of justification. No worthwhile hope could’ve possibly come from serving that _whore._ How can you expect me to get over that?”

“I don’t expect you to get over it. Not now, maybe not ever,” Hajime said, the gentle, calm tone of voice back, “but blaming yourself in whole for it gets you nowhere. All of that blood- _Chiaki’s_ blood is on _her_ hands, not yours. Never yours.”

He wanted to argue. Wanted to tell Hajime _you’re wrong. You’re wrong and wasting time trying to get through to a killer_ . But he couldn’t find any argumental flaw to grasp onto. _Dammit._ Nagito refrained from fighting any further, and even though part of his mind screamed that _he’s lying he’s just wasting his Ultimate Manipulator talent to get you to shut up for once,_ he allowed the more rational side to take charge.

Maybe he could be selfish and allow himself to feel a sense of solace. Pretend that he really didn’t lead her to her death. For now, at least, until this scene replays again and again until Hajime finally has the sense to leave.

“Thank you. I’m sorry for keeping you awake.”

Those words were met with a soft smile- one he couldn’t find any malice in, and one that made it much harder to believe he was being manipulated. This was followed quickly by, “Don’t apologize. We’re all healing in our own time, if losing a bit of sleep can speed that up in the slightest, then I’m willing to do just that.”

Nagito placed the glass of water on the nightstand and laid back down. Hajime reached over to turn the light off and followed suit. The white-haired boy turned over and laid down on the other’s chest, listening to his heartbeat. Steady and controlled- the opposite of despair.

“I love you.”

Not a moment of hesitation before he heard a quiet “I love you” back. Another factor saying that he wasn’t being manipulated. 

He’d try to get some sleep and deal with the apologies he still owed tomorrow.

**Author's Note:**

> apologies if this was ooc this is honestly mostly projection lol


End file.
